


So Many Nights Like This

by Lily_rizzy



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Affair era, Boyfriend Era, Fiance Era, M/M, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 14:38:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15665208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lily_rizzy/pseuds/Lily_rizzy
Summary: Lottie Fowler was a horrible receptionist.Working the reception at The Hotten Spa Hotel was not the career she had envisioned for herself when she had accepted her place studying Business at Leeds University. By 22, one year graduated, she had pictured that she would already be climbing the corporate ladder to bigger (paychecks) and better things. And yet, she currently had no feet on the corporate ladder despite finishing her degree with a respectable 2:1, and was currently stuck in a career she would have shuddered at, age 18.-Or the story of Robert and Aaron, told from the point of view of a hotel receptionist.





	So Many Nights Like This

**Author's Note:**

> Slight tweaking of minor canon events to fit this random idea for a fic I had and couldn't get out of my head. Hope you enjoy!

Lottie Fowler was a horrible receptionist.  
  
Working the reception at The Hotten Spa Hotel was not the career she had envisioned for herself when she had accepted her place studying Business at Leeds University. By 22, one year graduated, she had pictured that she would already be climbing the corporate ladder to bigger (paychecks) and better things. And yet, she currently had _no_ feet on the corporate ladder despite finishing her degree with a respectable 2:1, and was currently stuck in a career she would have shuddered at, age 18.  
  
In truth, she'd only been working at the hotel for 4 months, but 4 months under Stacey's management was enough to make anyone miserable on a Wednesday afternoon, when she saw them for the first time.  
  
And if Lottie was being honest, she'd admit that she was in less than her best mood.  
  
"Hi, how can I help," she had muttered not looking up from her computer screen.  
  
"Hi, yeah, I booked a room this morning. Under Smith?" The pressing voice made her look up, demanding attention, respect and for everything to be dropped right this second so the man behind it could have his way. A charmer, she suspected, used to getting his own way with a flutter of his eyelashes.  
  
He was a good-looking man, in a striking way that you just knew, _he knew_. He had sharp eyes and floppy blonde hair.  
  
_Could do with a haircut._  
  
"John Smith?" She half laughed, half queried, when she found his reservation. He had simply raised his eyebrows at her as if to say, _is that really any of your business?_ She had to admit to herself, his good looks and the want of an easy life made her not quiz him further, and happily accept a Halifax Business credit card under a completely different name. _L White_.  
  
He didn't look like an L White, she had thought absentmindedly, as she scanned two key cards, connecting them to his room.  
  
He had almost snatched them out of her hand in eagerness to get away from the front desk, but his thanks seemed sincere (even if it was half shouted over his shoulder) so she forgave him. Some people just had no patience.  
  
Besides, Lottie had seen it all in those short 4 months. She didn’t dwell on a lot these days.  
  
That was, until, a somewhat scruffy, but gorgeous dark haired man arrived at the desk roughly 23 minutes later (not that she was counting until the end of her shift, or anything).  
  
And god, was he _gorgeous_. Just Lottie's type. Blondie had been attractive, but this guy was _so_ Lottie's type it almost felt like fate. He looked like he wasn't scared that manual labour would ruin his manicure, and that just did it for her these days. Too many bratty uni boys had ruined the appeal of metrosexual men for her. Something about him just screamed "working class," the same way something about Blondie just screamed, "money."  
  
He walked, almost nervously, up to the desk like he just knew he didn't belong here and if Lottie was being honest, he didn't look like he did at all. Instead of the pressed suits and polished shoes most of the guests turned up in, he was wearing a slightly creased shirt and suit trousers she suspected were his only. He had no tie or jacket.  
  
"Hi. I've been told to ask you for the room number? I don't need a key... just... it's under John Smith." He cringed, screwing his bright blue eyes shut as he spoke, but his voice sounded firm. Feisty.

  
"Oh." She had barely been able to contain her shock. Interesting. But she was nothing if not an (aspiring) professional. "Of course. That’s room 216, Sir." And she pretended not to notice the added lightness in her voice in the presence of such a beautiful man.  
  
If the connections she was making in her brain were anything close to the truth, she suspected he wouldn’t be the least bit interested in any attention of hers anyway.  
  
The mumbled "thank you," eyes down, already walking away was so different from the cocky, self-assured attitude his... Blondie had, it was startling.  
  
_Very interesting._  
  
That was definitely not something Lottie had seen in the last 4 months.  


* * *

Only two weeks later, Lottie saw them again. This time they were stood shoulder to shoulder at the front desk, both sporting full suits, though Lottie didn't know who they thought they were fooling, (other than themselves), attempting to look as though they were here for business.  
  
Blondie did all the talking, "Reservation under Smith," _winking_ at her and smirking briefly before turning to Scruffy. (And yes, Lottie knew that was an awful nickname, but she could hardly call him "Fitty," given how fit they _both_ were. That would just confuse things.)  
  
Scruffy looked almost uncomfortable to have all of Blondies attention but at the same time was practically glowing under it, like he didn’t have it all that often. There was definitely an air of secrecy about them, Lottie noted, as though they were both doing something they ought not to be, but couldn't help themselves. She wondered, briefly, which one was in the closet.  
  
She liked to think that she was being observant, not simply plain nosey.  
  
She clicked about on her computer a little longer than necessary, trying to sneak glances, watching the two of them watch each other. Blondie, with a smirk and Scruffy with a gentle, helpless smile. Blondie seemed a bit more at ease with being on show in the hotel lobby, so Lottie felt it was safe to assume that the last time had been the first time they'd met up like this.  
  
Definitely not the first time meeting all together though, because, for all of Scruffy's nervous energy and Blondies eagerness to be hidden, they seemed at ease with one another, comfortable. Like they both knew that the other was here for. She guessed that last time was simply their first time doing anything as _dangerous_ as this, sneaking off to a hotel room together.  
  
And now they were back, so Lottie could only assume they had both deemed whatever risk worth it.  
  
She had to clear her throat when their room keys were ready, the sexual tension thick enough to cut with a butter knife.  
  
Scruffy's eyes immediately fell back on Lottie's face, but wouldn't meet hers. Blondie didn't even turn back to look at her, just took both key cards from her outstretched hand, gaze still locked on Scruffy.  
  
"Have a lovely stay," She began the drill, "breakfast is at-"  
  
"Yeah, thanks we will." Blondie interrupted, brushing her off while still not looking at her, already steering Scruffy away from the desk. Lottie thought it was a good job he was so good looking, otherwise, people would begin to realise what a rude dickhead he was.  
  
Scruffy smiled at her over his shoulder, apologetically, and murmured a quiet, "thanks." Lottie wondered if he knew what he was getting himself into with this gorgeous blonde man who seemed to think he was so far above the masses, they barely deserved a second glance.  
  
"Robert, that was really rude," She heard Scruffy chastise, sounding more amused than angry.  
  
Robert. So Blondie really wasn’t John Smith. Or L white for that matter.  
  
Unless, of course, he'd given Scruffy a fake name too.  
  
Lottie supposed it was intoxicating for Scruffy, to be on the receiving end of a man like that’s attention. He probably felt lucky, undeserving, when really, the way Lottie saw it, Blondie was the lucky one. Scruffy reminded her of her new boyfriend, Jack, who (though they'd only just started dating), she could already tell was the one. She bet that the Scruffy was like Jack, was the kind of loyal that you could kick him while he was down and he'd still apologise for being under your feet.  
  
She watched their backs all the way to the lift, watched Blondie crowd Scruffy against the far wall, a few seconds to soon for them to be completely shielded by the closing lift doors. She saw Scruffy fall easily into his advances, like that had been just what he was waiting for, for however long since the last time.  
  
And just like that, Lottie knew Blondie was the one doing the hiding. Lottie bet he hadn’t even had to drag Scruffy down with him, that he'd gone easily, willingly for whatever scraps he could get.  
  
For some reason, Lottie couldn’t help but suspect that this was all going to end in tears.  


* * *

And Lottie wouldn't like to say she told you so, _but.._.

* * *

It was a slow Thursday afternoon, the kind that made her heart burst with happiness every time she remembered that tomorrow was Friday and she had the weekend off. A rarity in the hospitality profession, she was beginning to find out the hard way.  
  
Jack had plans to whisk her away for the weekend, take her down to London and wine and dine her out on the town. It had been a long time since anyone had planned anything so lovely for her.  
  
So, when she saw Scruffy walk through the front doors, alone, she was glad to have found herself some form of entertainment to make the minutes tick by quicker.  
  
He seemed instantly different, a little more assured of himself like his skin wasn't crawling quite so much to be surrounded by 5-star hotel luxury. He seemed happier, so much so he almost cracked a smile at her when she handed over the room key under John Smiths name, sparing him the embarrassment of having to ask for it.  
  
Blondie checked in, 32 minutes later, with the same eager rush about him, excited.  
  
Lottie couldn't blame him, was sure she'd look the same if she was about to meet Scruffy in a hotel room. The two times before that they'd stayed here, she'd never known them to leave their room again before checkout. She had _every_ idea of what they were up to.  
  
Lottie had learnt from last time that it was just easier to hand him the key card for whatever room him and Scruffy were staying in, smile brightly and say minimal. That way she gave him little opportunity to be rude to her.  
  
Once that was done and she'd watched him disappear into the lift, there was nothing else to do but count down the minutes to the end of her shift.

She was at 274, when a pretty blonde, country looking girl marched up to the desk, with an extremely glamorous looking brown haired in tow, who looked like she'd rather be _anywhere_ but here.  
  
The blonde slammed both hands down on her front desk, allowing Lottie a good look at her chipped nails. _Definitely a farmers wife._ "Hi, we're meeting someone. Robert Sugden?"  
  
Lottie pretended to have a good look at the list, knowing full well that there was no one under that name, but this woman didn't look in the mood to be told no straight off the bat. She told them there was no such reservation, not under Robert Sugden, Home Farm Estates, but when the blonde asked for "White," she had to clench her jaw keep her mouth from dropping open.

 _Blondie_ Robert was Robert _Sugden_.  
  
After telling them both no (because it was _technically_ true and the last thing she was going to do was grass Blondie up and have his evening ruined), she saw a hot flash of anger in the glamorous brunettes face, before she marched away declaring the whole thing ridiculous.  
  
Lottie had a fleeting feeling of pity for her, clearly dragged here by a mate who believed (with good reason, mind), that her... boyfriend? Husband?... was doing the dirty on her. She couldn’t tell who was making the glamorous brunette look more stupid, her farmer girl or Blondie.

 _Poor Cow._  
  
Still, Lottie felt a little pleased with herself, that she'd managed to save Scruffy and Blondies date night from disaster.

Or so she thought. 

17 minutes later she saw Scruffy creeping around the edge of the room the exit. He caught eyes with her, and she gave him, what she hoped was her best apologetic smile. He just stared back at her, blankly, and made his way swiftly to the car park.

And even though Scruffy probably knew full well who he was getting into bed with, Lottie couldn't help but feel sorrier for him. She tried not to think about all the girl codes she was violating. She'd have gone for blood if any of her friends had shown pity towards the girl her last boyfriend, Mike, had cheated on her with.  
  
Around 9 minutes later, the farmer girl stropped through the reception and out the same door, doing a very good impression of a 7-year-old throwing a temper tantrum. Lottie hoped 9 minutes had been enough for Scruffy to get away, unseen. The last thing he deserved was an awkward confrontation in the car park.  


* * *

The next morning, Lottie was about to thank her lucky stars when Blondie and his glamorous woman walked up to her desk to check out before she caught herself. She really was getting too invested.  
  
Blondie pointedly made no eye contact with her, this time out of embarrassment and fear, rather than indifference or arrogance.  
  
Like she might tell.  
  
Blondie's glamorous woman was still gushing about what a "gorgeous surprise," the night away had been, and how she was, "so sorry for trusting Katie and her big mouth." At least now Lottie had a name for the blonde farmer girls face.  
  
Blondie "Mmm'd," in all the right places, as though he had every right to be receiving thanks and apologies, while he furiously tapped away at his phone, shielded tightly against his chest. Lottie hoped that he was texting Scruffy, apologising for what a disaster yesterday had been.  
  
She hoped Scruffy wasn't making it easy for him.  
  
Lottie tried not to wince as she noticed the large diamond on the glamorous woman's ring finger. It caught the light as she thrust the pen she used to sign the receipt line back to Lottie, without so much as a thank you, or a cursory glance.  
  
These new money people, Lottie found herself thinking, and almost scoffed immediately after at her own stupidity. As if she had two pennies to rub together and wasn't up to her eyeballs in student loans.  
  
She also hapily noticed the lack of a wedding ring on Blondies left hand. Fiancee, then. Still enough time for Scruffy to change Blondies mind.  
  
(Except, she doubted he'd be given the chance to. People this good at lying to others are even better at lying to themselves.)  


* * *

  
Lottie saw them both, roughly three more times that year. The next time they came she noticed, with a heavy heart, that Blondie was sporting a shiny gold band on his left ring finger. Still, she couldn't say she was surprised.  
  
And Scruffy looked beaten down, the hopefulness that used to glow around him completely gone. He looked like a man who had accepted that this was as good as it was going to get, and he better get used to it, quick.  
  
Lottie had really hoped that if he couldn't convince Blondie he was worth it, he would be able to see it for himself. Because he was worth so much more, they both were.

But she supposed that fear and shame did awful things to people.  
  
She also noticed it wasn't only her that had gotten so invested in the pair. Stacey, manager from hell, had even commented on how, "bloody gorgeous," Blondie was, after watching Lottie check him in one afternoon.  
  
"His boyfriends hotter," Lottie found herself answering coyly. Stacey shrugged, while Ellie, Lotties some-what new work friend on the adjacent desk, snorted.  
  
"There's no way he's gay."  
  
And Lottie just couldn't help herself. "Ask Cynthia, if you don't believe me."  
  
And Cynthia, an older woman who worked housekeeping, graciously filled Ellie in with all the details.  
  
"They shag. It must be all they bloody do."  
  
Lottie laughed, while Ellie looked scandalised.  
  
"How can you possibly know that," Ellie demanded, cheeks turning pink.  
  
Cynthia gave her a scathing look. "I do empty the bins in the rooms you know." And Ellie's cheeks turned pinker. "Or, I should say I fill AND empty the bins. The pair of them leave more condoms and lube packets strewn around a room than should be physically capable, for the length of time they're here."  
  
Ellie looked, open-mouthed from Cynthia, back to Lottie.  
  
"Tell me everything you know, right now." She finally demanded, and Lottie laughed, linking her arm and steering her in the direction of the break room to do just that.  
  
\--  
  
Around July they stopped coming. For or a long time, Lottie had thought she had seen the last of them. Sometimes, she couldn't help her mind wandering back to them, when she was sat watching TV with Jack, or lying in bed next to him, long after he'd fallen asleep. She wondered if they had ended things, on good or bad terms, or if they had just moved to a new hotel. She wondered if Blondies wife had found out.  
  
She didn't know what would have been better for either of them.  


* * *

Lottie has long since known that when you least expect things, life has a tendency to give them to you. 

  
If you'd told her a year ago, she'd still be here, still working on this godforsaken reception desk under Stacey's management, she'd have laughed in your face.  
  
But as it goes, she's moved a couple of steps up the pay grade since then and realised that maybe staying where she is and trying to work her way up to the top from the bottom is better than sacking it all in for... well nothing.

So Lottie does her best now to expect the unexpected.  
  
And even so, she almost double takes when she sees Blondie and Scruffy walk in together, Scruffy laughing (actually laughing, not half smiling) at something Blondie has said. They look so at ease with each other, one bag slung over Scruffy's shoulder as though it's for the two of them.  
  
As if this is more than a quick, one night getaway before the missus suspects anything.  
  
Lottie almost jumps for joy when she see's Blondies ringless left hand.  
  
But that would be unprofessional, so instead, she smiles and hopes they don't realise just how bright it is.  
  
Blondie actually acknowledges her properly for the first time, smiling as he tells her he has a reservation under "Sugden." This definitely seems legit to her, silly fake names and false pretenses forgotten.  
  
But another thing Lottie has learnt, is that if things seem too good to be true, its because they usually are.

(Except her Jack, of course.)

She's handing over their key cards, going through the "Have a lovely stay," drill when she realises a sudden change in Blondie.  
  
His shoulders have gone stiff and his jaw has set. He's no longer looking at her, but off, uncomfortably to the side like he's... embarrassed. The only change she can see is that Scruffy has put a hand on the small of Blondies back, as he leans over to read the selection of tourist pamphlets on Lottie's desk.  
  
Scruffy notices the change, quickly removes his hand and the two of them shuffle away, Scruffy muttering a "thanks," and Blondie not saying anything. The lack of surprise on Scruffy's face, more disappointed acceptance, makes Lottie think that casual display of affection was a test.  
  
One Blondie definitely failed.  
  
Lottie hopes Scruffy would find patience with him. That this was just the beginning of a long but lovely journey for the both of them, towards something better than a stolen afternoon here and a quicky there.  
  
They still didn’t emerge from their room until checking out the following afternoon and Lottie found herself hoping again, that this was simply a new couple, excited to have true alone time to enjoy each other. That it wasn't the manifestation of shame, the need to be hidden away behind closed doors to be themselves.  


* * *

In early November they're back.

"Oi, careful!" Scruffy proclaims as he tries to guide a stumbling Blondie through the front doors. "Knew we should have checked in earlier," he mutters under his breath as it takes him three attempts to steer Blondie to the sofas at the edge of the room.  
  
Even Lottie, who has been run ragged all day, has to bite back a smile. It makes her think, this is what Jack must look like, helping her home from a night out.  
  
Once Blondie is finally sat down, he throws his head back and begins to hum, "Here comes the bride," obnoxiously loud. Maybe they’ve been at a wedding. Lottie watches Scruffy cringe as he approaches the desk, stumbling slightly himself but looking very much soberer.  
  
"Sorry," he shrugs at her, grinning and looking not at all one bit sorry, "we've got a room under Aaron Dingle?"  
  
Aaron. It's nice to finally put a face to the name, it always felt wrong to know one and not the other.  
  
"Don't worry, you wouldn't be the drunkest people to stumble through those doors." She laughs, and it's true. She's glad Stacey has an "if it's covered in vomit, throw it away," policy, otherwise Lottie would have spent many a Sunday morning shift trying to wash sick out of the multiple plant pots they have littered around the room.  
  
"I'm not drunk!" Robert protests, ceasing his humming but slurring his words.  
  
Aaron looks back, disbelieving adoration etched so clearly into every one of his features it almost takes Lottie back because it's so far removed from the grumpy man she normally encounters. "Rob, just shut up." He half laughs, turning back to Lottie and thanking her softly as she hands over his keys.  
  
Aaron strides back over to where Robert is sat and tries to hoist him up with two hands under his armpits. Lottie's almost certain they're both going to topple over, and almost leaves the safety of her desk to help, when she sees them both regain their balance and begin to move precariously to the lifts.  
  
She thinks that'll be the last of them she'll see, at least for a while. She's not working the desk tomorrow morning so will likely miss their checking out. But then Robert turns back to look at her, a sloppy smile on his face and begins to wave his left hand towards her, where he's wearing a new wedding ring she hadn't noticed before.  
  
"Can you believe I'm agreeing to marry 'im?" He teases, stage whispering to Lottie.  
  
"Oi, you asked me!" Aaron protests, before Lottie can say anything. She notices Aaron is wearing a matching band on his left hand. "And leave the poor girl alone, she doesn't get paid enough to listen to your drunk ramblings."  
  
"Congratulations," Lottie grins at them, a feeling of overwhelming happiness coming over her. She feels, almost oddly proud of them, for having got here in the end.

"Thank you! Erm..."

"Lottie." She tells Robert.  
  
"See, Lottie's happy!" He insists to Aaron, beaming at her.  
  
He rolls his eyes. "No, she's just being polite."  
  
"Well there's going to be nothing polite about the rest of this evening," Robert teases, leaning forwards suddenly to smack sloppy kisses against Aarons' cheek.  
  
And Aaron turns bright red, right to the tips of his ears, and begins to grumble about, "fat chance, the state of you tonight," But Lottie has a feeling he doesn't mind one bit.  


* * *

  
It's August the following year and Lottie's having a shit day.  
  
She and Jack have gotten into a massive fight, the kind that might put all the plans of moving in together on hold, and she’s not sure she wants to go back to her mum’s and sleep in her tiny single bed alone.  
  
She’s having the kind of shit day that means (because in fairness, it is nearly midnight and she only has an hour left of her shift anyway) that instead of manning the desk, she’s crumpled herself onto one of the sofas with a snotty tissue.  
  
She’s got her head buried in her hands, the vicious words shouted back and forth between her and Jack swimming in her head, when a tentative voice asks, “Are you okay?” and she almost jumps out of her skin.  
  
It’s Robert.  
  
She hasn’t seen either him or Aaron in so long, it almost dulls the ache in her chest.  
  
“I’m fine!" She insists, scrubbing quickly at her eyes, "Sorry, you’ve just caught me having a funny turn.”  
  
He looks at her, disbelievingly, before sighing and plonking himself on the sofa beside her. She tries not to flinch at how close he is. There’s always been a desk between them before now.  
  
“Rough night?” He asks conversationally, tipping his head back and shutting his eyes, and if sitting beside her on the sofa was strange, this is just plain alien.  
  
“Rough week,” she finds herself answering, truthfully. She feels like Aaron has blurred the harsh edges to Robert, made him seen a little less haughty and a little more approachable.  
  
He doesn't come across as such a massive, snobby dickhead anymore.  
  
Robert laughs bitterly, “Isn’t that the truth…” he pauses, eyes glancing over her uniform to find her name tag, “Charlotte?”  
  
“Lottie,” she corrects him for the second time. Recognition sparks in his features, and he nods repeating,  
  
“Lottie. I remember you, though I was very drunk, mind.”  
  
"I remember you,” she downplays, like she hasn't known exactly who he was, who they both were each time they've come here over the years, “How have you been, you and the mister finally married yet?" She gives him, what she supposes is, a watery smile.  
  
She knows something is wrong, the minute he doesn’t return it, his typical cocky smile, or even the more gentle one she had seen last time, and teasing voice, missing. She doesn't know what makes her ask like she's a friend or a bloody relationship councilor, but sitting here, like this, makes her feel like she can.  
  
"Is everything okay, Robert?"  
  
She looks at him closely for the first time. Notices his smart suit has been replaced by a shirt and jeans that look like they haven’t seen an iron in months. His hair is messy. He has big, dark bags under his eyes. For a few horrible moments, she begins to wonder if the worst has happened, if something awful has happened to Aaron, or-  
  
"Have you ever made a mistake that was so bad, you wished to high heaven and back that you could take it back. And I mean, not just for yourself, if anything less for yourself and more for the people around you. Not because you deserve the second chance... but because they deserve something good."  
  
And it’s so sincere, so serious in a way Lottie had always thought someone like Robert wouldn’t be capable of, she just stared at him blankly, completely unsure of what to say. For some stupid reason, the only mistake she can think of is the time she threw up in her mums brand new Micheal Kors bag on New Year's Eve, the one that was her mums Christmas present from her stepdad. Something told her, the kind of mistake Robert was talking about couldn’t be fixed by a thorough dry clean and offer to do the washing up for a month.  
  
Robert must see the flickers of confusion on her face, because he shakes his head, scoffing half a laugh. "Of course not, you're just a kid."  
  
Defensiveness flares up in Lottie's gut because, she's not just a kid thank you very much, if anything she's only a few years younger than Aaron. But she lets it go because, in a way, Aaron had always seemed so much older than his baby face suggested and Robert looks so broken he doesn't seem up to the challenge.  
  
Robert is so stripped bare of all his arrogant smirks and cocky demeanor it's dizzying. She wonders how many layers Aaron had to peel away to find this version of him, to make this version stay.  
  
How pointless, she thinks, to have gone to all that effort, put them both through all the trauma just to end up like this.  
  
She smiles, what she hopes is sympathetically, and begins to stand, chirping in what she hopes is a level voice, “Come on, let’s get you to bed and me home.” If she sticks around to see any more heartbreak, she might lose what little faith she has left in love.  
  
She wonders as she logs back onto her computer, finding his name somewhere near the bottom of a long list, what he's doing here alone. Is he moving on, meeting the next Aaron? One more look at his face, and somehow she doubts it.  
  
Maybe he's just trying to escape everything for a while, or re-live it.  
  
She checks him in silently, and simply nods back to him when it’s all he offers as thanks. It's not until he's turned to walk away she finally finds herself saying, "Mistakes can be forgiven, you know."  
  
When he turns back to face her, he gives her a heart shattering sad smile and just shrugs. "I hope so Lottie. But this time, I really doubt it."  
  
She wonders what mistake he made, to make him so hopeless. He doesn't look like the sort of man to give up anything he wants so willingly.  
  


* * *

  
Working the reception desk at a spa hotel in Hotten was never the career Lottie envisioned for herself.  
  
But in the last 4 years working there, a lot has changed.  
  
She was promoted to manager of the hotel when Stacey retired roughly 7 months ago, stating that she'd known all along Lottie would be the youngest manager the hotel had seen yet, (though Lottie thinks that was all bullshit). She's started to implement small changes (under the supervision of the old bag of an owner, of course), to update the hotel, give it more of a modern feel and encourage new customers.  
  
She's finally changed the stuffy afternoon tea room, that no one but the old grannies on a Sunday used, into a conference room. She's bought in more new contracts with local businesses and sports teams than the hotel has ever seen before.  
  
She has to admit to herself, maybe this was the career she was meant for after all.  
  
But there have been some sacrifices. Jack was one of them.  
  
She tells herself that aspect of her life was simply not been meant to be, with him always moaning at her for working too much after taking the position, and her complaining that he couldn't support her drive and couldn't understand her willpower.  
  
A lot of things were different, including the new additions Robert and Aaron walk into the hotel lobby with, one Saturday afternoon.  
  
She almost doesn't believe her eyes, doesn't believe it's them. It's been almost 18 months since she last saw Robert, alone and hopeless and more than two years since she last saw Aaron. Yet here they are, bustling through the door, together, with a stroppy teenager at their heels and a baby carrier nestled into the crook of Aarons' arm.  
  
Lottie almost laughs out loud at the absurdity of it all.  
  
"Right, Liv, wait here with Seb while me and Rob go check in," Aaron commands, setting the baby down next to Liv on the sofas. She rolls her eyes but begins to immediately coo and shake a set of keys at the babbling baby boy.  
  
The baby that has a shock of blonde hair and Roberts eyes.  
  
Lottie likes to think that this wasn't the mistake Robert was talking about over a year ago, but with these two, she's learnt that almost anything is possible.

Besides, he doesn't seem like much of a mistake now.  
  
She grins at them both when they approach the desk, can't contain it, "Family outing or something?"  
  
Aaron just rolls his eyes and shrugs, a tentative smile on his face, while Robert outright grins at her.  
  
The snobby, cocky dickhead she saw for the first time three years ago is definitely gone then.  
  
"Or something. Turns out if you want a babysitter these days you need to pay them with their own room and spa treatments at the hotel you're trying to escape to." He tells her, looping an arm around Aarons' waist.  
  
Aaron rolls his eyes again, but Lottie sees the flush creeping up his cheeks, and smile he's failing to bite back. "Yeah, well, this restaurant you keep bangin' on about better be worth the cost of that."  
  
Roberts eyes dance as he looks at him and promises, "Oh it will be."  
  
Lottie doesn't think they're talking about the food anymore.  
  
"I'm so glad to see you both here together again," she says, as she hands them other their cards. Robert just shrugs, idiot grin still plastered on his face, while Aaron looks curiously at her, but doesn't say anything.  
  
They even link their fingers together (each of their left hands bearing matching wedding rings once more), for a brief moment as they walk back to the girl, Liv and the baby, Seb, before letting go to tackle the children and the bags.  
  
Somethings change dramatically, both men so far removed from who they were the first time Lottie saw either of them.

Some things never change, she realises looking at the two idiots, hopelessly in love after all this time.  
  
And the way they look at each other as they walk to the lift, Liv carrying Seb and feigning vomiting noises behind them, is so contagious she can feel it spreading. It's as though each of their futures is wrapped up in the others lingering looks and slightly unsteady hands.

I want _that_ , Lottie thinks. Without thinking, she whips out her phone and drafts a new message to Jack.  
  
_I think we’ve both been idiots. I’d love to meet for a drink if you have the time?x_  
  
It’s not much, she knows, but it’s something.

**Author's Note:**

> Really uncertain of how I feel about this but I couldn't face deleting and rewriting any of it for the 100th time, so as always feedback is highly appreciated (bad or good) and kudos is always beautiful to receive. 
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed.
> 
> Lil x


End file.
